


Living Legend

by Mnemosyne_Elegy



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, Mild Horror, Suspense, the spider and the fly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemosyne_Elegy/pseuds/Mnemosyne_Elegy
Summary: Lucy has grown up on legends and knows to be wary, but when she stumbles across a strangely magnetic, enthralling boy in an icy cave, she can't help but let herself be ensnared.





	Living Legend

**Author's Note:**

> This is AU, as in an actual alternate universe and not just an alternate timeline. I usually don't care for them, but the idea was too fun to pass up. This is heavily inspired by Mary Howitt's "The Spider and the Fly". The poem is in the public domain, which means that I can reproduce it without worrying about copyright infringement. I don't own it.
> 
> This might only really be horror if you sort of squint at it funny. It's more subtle. And idk what even "suspense" is supposed to be as a genre, but I didn't know what to tag this and I thought, why not?

_"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly;_  
_"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy._  
 _The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,_  
 _And I have many pretty things to show when you are there."_  
 _"O no, no," said the little fly, "to ask me is in vain,_  
 _For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."_

Lucy had not thought this through. Well, she _had_ thought it through, but obviously not very well. She had known there would be risks when she'd first cooked up this ill-conceived scheme, but it was now, totally lost and having spent the last several hours slogging through snow and worrying about frostbite, that she truly realized how stupid she had been.

Another gust of wind blew past, whistling through the rocky crags and tugging at her hair, and she pulled her coat more tightly about herself as she shivered. She rubbed at her face with her gloved hands and winced at the rawness stinging her skin. The wind had become relentless the farther she'd gone up the mountain, and it chafed at her exposed skin and clawed its way through her heavy clothing.

Lucy had never much liked the cold. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

Stumbling a few more paces, she came face to face with a steep incline of craggy boulders and groaned. She could just turn back, but she hated the idea of trying to retrace her steps _again_. Her new plan was to just keep climbing _up_ and hope that she eventually hit the peak and could figure out which side she needed to descend. She had already spent far too much time wandering around in aimless circles, searching for the path she had lost.

Her gloved hands scrabbled for purchase on the nearest boulder, before she managed to hook them into a crevice and pull herself up. With a huff, she scrambled up to perch on top and take a breather, the cold burning her lungs. After stalling for a few seconds, she stood carefully and started pulling herself up the next stretch of rocky wall.

It hadn't looked that high when she was still at the base, but she quickly realized that these rocks were treacherous. One wrong move would send her crashing down. It probably wouldn't kill her, but it would definitely hurt and she'd be out of luck if she twisted an ankle.

Or started an avalanche. There had been some severe avalanches in these mountains over the past couple weeks. It was one of the reasons Lucy had chosen now to act, although that sounded really stupid when she thought about it. But no one would expect her to be running around in the mountains with all the reports of avalanches coming in, and no one would want to go after her even if they did.

Her father would have people out after her in a heartbeat when he saw that she was missing, and she needed to take desperate measures if she wanted to escape. He had too many connections for her to reasonably expect to sneak off any other way. Why couldn't he just let her go?

Her hand slipped and she gasped, her automatic cry cut off as she slammed into the rocky face. She managed to jam a foot into a small crack, and then paused to wait for her pounding heart to settle.

Taking a deep breath and summoning up whatever determination she had left, she gritted her teeth and started up again. She finally managed to reach flat—well, flat- _ish_ —ground, but as she was catching her breath, her eye caught on the rocky crevasses on either side.

"Oh _no_ ," she said with a groan.

Why had she thought that climbing those rocks was a good idea? Evening would be falling soon, and she was going to be stuck. She couldn't get down those crevasses, and the thought of climbing back down the boulders was so unappealing. The rocky face on the far side of the little safe zone was so steep that it would be impossible to climb, and–

Wait, was that a cave?

Lucy stepped forward to peer at the cavern curiously. Broken chunks of ice lay crumbled around the entrance, and she could see more ice far below when she glanced down into the ravines. Perhaps the avalanches had dislodged it?

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared inside with wide, awestruck eyes. The ice extended into the cave too, dripping from the ceiling like shimmering stalactites and feathering out across the walls and floor in intricate designs. It set the whole cave glittering—an icy wonderland.

_How pretty…_

She wanted to go inside and explore, get a closer look at all the delicate frost and ice, but hesitated. She knew better than to go poking around in random caves. Anything could be living in a cave: bears, mountain cats…people?

She started in surprise, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head as a boy slipped out from around an icy column and paused, looking nearly as startled as she did. Lucy gaped at him silently, unable to believe that there was a person this far up the mountain off the beaten track in the dead of winter _without a shirt_.

"Why, hello," said the boy. His brief astonishment faded as he drifted toward the cave's entrance. He seemed remarkably composed now, a sly, self-assured half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he looked the newcomer up and down. "I don't get many visitors up here."

"You–you–" Lucy couldn't come up with any words, still shocked by his sudden appearance. "What…? What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he said, amusement sparking in his eyes.

There was something a little unsettling about him. For one, who lived in a cave in the middle of a godforsaken snowy wasteland? _Without a shirt?_ And there was something almost… _insubstantial_ about him. His dark hair and eyes stood out against his pale skin, but they still looked like they might shimmer out of existence if she looked too closely. His skin was so white as to be nearly translucent and had a faint, nearly opalescent sheen to it. It must be from the play of light that the ice reflected, although Lucy wondered how the ice could glitter so, as if lit from the inside.

"You…live in a cave? _Here?_ "

He shrugged, the slight movement more graceful than it had any right to be. "Yes."

"But–but– _Why?_ "

"Because I was trapped," said the boy. The corners of his lips quirked downward. "I was abandoned here and the world forgot. So this is where I stay."

Someone had abandoned him _here_? How horrible. Lucy couldn't imagine. She wanted to ask who had done it and why, but felt that might be rude.

"That's…sad," she said instead, her heart melting in sympathy.

"Is it?" He smiled again, and the intensity of his gaze made Lucy feel like she was the only person in the world. "It's not so bad. You get used to it."

"But… How can you stand to live in the cold _without a shirt_?" Then her hands flew to cover her mouth as she realized what she'd said. He was going to think her so rude, and she had a niggling desire to please this strange boy.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, the sound like throaty velvet, and Lucy immediately knew that she wanted to hear it again once it had faded away.

"You get used to it," the boy said again. "Does it bother you?" His lazy smile took on a wicked cast. "Or do you like it?"

Lucy made an undignified squeaking sound, embarrassed to have been caught staring, and her cheeks flamed red as she tried to pull her gaze away. But it was hard not to dart glances back from beneath her eyelashes. There was just something about him that drew her in, made her want to touch. She had never before felt such an intense desire to run her hands across someone's skin, feel the planes of muscle and the heart beating underneath.

Her eyes traced over his chest of their own accord, and she wondered how he could be so hard and soft at the same time. All the defined muscles and lines, the strong set of his jaw… And yet the edges were somehow softened, giving him an almost elfin appearance. How could someone be both so insubstantial and so solidly real at the same time?

And how could she have ever thought that it was strange for him to be here? Maybe it _should_ be strange, but he quite clearly _belonged_. He was at ease, almost an extension of the ice, and she suddenly couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

Realizing that she'd been staring again, Lucy quickly looked away from the boy. Man. Definitely a man, even though he couldn't be much older than her. He had all the self-assured grace and confidence of someone who knew his place in the world and was comfortable in his own skin.

"So," said the man when Lucy couldn't string together a coherent sentence, "what brings you up here? Not many people stop by this way."

Lucy looked back up shyly. His amusement was evident in his eyes, but he was offering her a way out instead of teasing her and she seized upon it gratefully.

"I'm, um, traveling through." She paused and looked around forlornly at the rocky precipices and surrounding snow. "I lost the trail. I want to make it to the other side so that I can join a guild."

"A guild?" asked the man, interest sharpening his gaze. "Like for magic?"

"Don't tease," Lucy said with a laugh. "There's no such thing as magic. Although if the legends are to be believed, magic was alive hundreds of years ago and the guilds are holdovers from that time. They're more like communities now, places where you can go to build ties and know that you can count on people to back you up. They have a lot of influence in the cities and dabble in a lot of things."

A flash of pink danced through her mind's eye, and a faint smile ghosted over her face. "I have a friend who joined one. He wanted me to come back with him last time he dropped by to visit, but I couldn't leave then. But now I want to."

Screw her father and his expectations.

Her new acquaintance hummed thoughtfully and rocked back on his heels, and Lucy got the feeling that she had disappointed him in some way even though his face showed none of it.

"Don't tease," she said, fiddling with her gloves as she dropped her gaze, "but sometimes I wonder if there really was magic, way back then. I mean, wouldn't that be cool? It's nice to dream about sometimes." Her frost-nipped cheeks darkened again. "I know, I know, it's silly."

"Maybe not silly," said the man. "Too many people forget how to dream, how to imagine, how to believe. It's nice to see someone who still has that spark."

Lucy looked up to give him a shy smile, her heart lifting at the realization that he was pleased with her response. It felt good. There was something about him, some aura hanging around his body and shining in his eyes, that made her desperate to please him.

"You'll have to forgive my manners," he said, flashing Lucy a smile. "It's been a long time since I've had a visitor. What's your name, little dreamer?"

_Little dreamer_. She liked it. It felt so pretty and hopeful on his tongue, and his voice curled around it like it was something precious to be treasured. It made her smile and she realized that she wanted to hear him say her name, find out what it would feel like when he touched it with his voice and brought it to life.

"Lucy," she said.

"What a pretty name, for such a pretty girl," he said, the seemingly perpetual edge of amusement in his eyes softening to something warmer. "It must be my lucky day to not only get a visitor after so long, but to get one as charming as you. Lucky Lucy."

Lucy tried to hold back the beaming smile that immediately broke out on her face. _Lucky Lucy_. It was nice to think that she might be lucky for someone. It made her feel special, and it sounded so bright and vibrant on his tongue.

"And what's your name?" she asked him, desperate to have a name to give her alluring acquaintance.

A faint frown spread across his face. "I'm not sure that I remember anymore."

"How can you not remember your own name?" Lucy asked, stupefied.

"You're the first person I've seen in a long, long time. Names start to fade in importance when there is no one to share them with." He shrugged with that almost feline grace again. "I think I had one, once, but it has been such a very long time."

"That's so sad!" Lucy exclaimed, horrified.

"Is it?" He flashed her another one of those lazy, amused smiles. "It's not so bad. What are you playing with?"

"Huh?"

"In your pocket."

Lucy looked down, surprised to see that her hand was buried in her pocket and fiddling with the objects there. She couldn't even feel them through her glove, but she supposed it was a nervous habit to play with them when she was distracted. Pulling them out, she smiled down fondly and fanned the keys out across her palm. They glittered silver and gold in the light, and she once again marveled at the intricate filigree of the decorative heads, the slender stems, the neat wedges of the teeth.

"I collect keys. My mother collected them before me, and when she… Well, I inherited them and kept going. Each one is so special and unique, different from all the others. You know, the old legends say that there used to be such a thing as _magic_ keys. These aren't, obviously, but sometimes it feels like I can hold a little bit of faded magic in my hand."

"Ah, you like pretty things." Her nameless friend gave her another one of those heart-melting smiles, but it sharpened in amusement as he let his eyes travel the length of her body and then return to her face with a mischievous twinkle. "So do I."

Lucy blushed, her face feeling like it was burning with some strange, euphoric fire. Dropping her gaze, she tried to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

This wasn't creepy in the way that some of the boys in town leered at her, didn't make her feel uncomfortable and want to crawl out of her own skin or punch someone in the face. It was an appreciative look, acknowledging but not asking for anything. It didn't linger anywhere it ought not to, and she could feel that his gaze had returned to focus on her face again, as well it should.

"Would you like to come inside?" he asked. "You were admiring the ice earlier, weren't you? It's very pretty inside. Come look."

Lucy's smile faded, her mind rebelling with uncertainty as she slipped the keyring back into her pocket and searched the mouth of the cave with wary eyes. "I don't know…"

_"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;_  
_Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly._  
 _"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin,_  
 _And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in."_  
 _"O no, no," said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said,_  
_They_ _**never, never wake** _ _again, who sleep upon_ _**your** _ _bed."_

"Whyever not?" he asked.

His self-assured poise never faltered, but Lucy imagined that she detected a hint of hurt in his voice and eyes. No, no, that wouldn't do.

"Oh, it's not you!" she said quickly, rushing to cover up her misstep, eager to please. "It's just… I don't know."

"But surely you must be tired from your journey." He tilted his head to study her with those dark, fathomless eyes of his. "Come in and rest. I'm sure you would be glad to get out of the cold for a while."

Lucy eyed the icy interior of the cavern skeptically. "It's not cold inside?"

He chuckled throatily, instantly distracting her. Something about the sound was addictive, and she craved it. She wanted to make him laugh the same way he always seemed to make her smile.

"Of course it is, Luce," he said in wry amusement, and she felt her eyes light up at the new nickname. There was something so intimate about the way he said her name and molded it into fond variants. "But you won't have to worry about all that wind. It's chilly, but it's much better than being out in the elements. And anyway, a storm is blowing up and night will be falling soon. You'll need somewhere to shelter."

Now that he'd said something, Lucy was suddenly aware of the wind howling about her and chilling her to the bone. Funny how she'd been so wholly absorbed with her mysterious companion that she'd almost entirely forgotten how cold she was. Now she could feel the chill biting at her nose and seeping through her clothing again, and her teeth chattered with a faint _clickety-clack, clickety-clack_ no matter how tightly she clenched them together.

"I suppose so," she conceded. "It's just… It's the stories, you know?"

He tilted his head and curiosity flickered to life in his eyes. "What stories?"

"Oh, you know. Just the old stories about what happened in the mountains. I guess it's silly superstition, but I was raised on them."

"Oh?" He leaned forward, still safely within the protection of the cave but edging closer to the world outside. "It has been a long time since anyone has told me a story."

Lucy laughed awkwardly. "It's just a children's tale."

His crooked grin dazzled her. "Then let me be a child for a moment."

Lucy laughed again, but without the awkwardness this time. His smile set her at ease, and she knew that she would tell him the tale.

"Alright, alright," she said. Her smile faded as she cleared her throat and settled into storyteller mode. "Many hundreds of years ago, when the world still hummed with magic and supernatural beings walked the land, there lived a boy. He was born far to the east, in a frozen country that was dressed in snow and ice all year long. One day, when he was still very young, a demon rampaged across the continent."

Her raven-haired listener leaned forward again, new interest sparking in his eyes, and Lucy knew that she had captured him in her tale. She would weave together a story so enthralling that he would hang on her every word.

"It was a monstrous beast with teeth like knives and eyes glowing red like coals, and it ripped apart cities and killed anyone who got in its way. It razed the city where the boy lived, tearing it to the ground and leaving him an orphan. With everyone he had loved dead, he vowed revenge on the monster that had destroyed his world.

"He was taken in by a powerful magician, and from her he learned the ways of magic. He learned to create and summon ice, mold it into intricate creations for any and every purpose. Even though he was still only a child, he took his new magic and went to hunt down the demon that he so hated. But he wasn't strong enough."

Lucy dropped her voice for effect, and it seemed to work. Although it didn't lure her new friend out of the cave, he had tilted his head slightly and was watching her with sharp, unreadable eyes. He was very much listening.

"Just as it seemed like all was lost, his master appeared to save him. She couldn't kill the demon, but she cast a spell to trap it in eternal ice, sacrificing her own life in the process. And the boy, he resolved to honor her memory and pay back the life he felt he'd taken a hundredfold.

"He joined one of the great mage guilds and performed many great deeds, but those are stories for another time. For this particular tale, it is only important to note that he eventually came into possession of a devil slayer magic—a magic specifically meant for killing demons. He became a great demon hunter, tracking down the beasts and destroying them. He saved many lives that way, but one day something happened."

Lucy leaned in, although she was only half paying attention to her audience. She was as caught up in her own tale as he was, lost in an ancient fairytale world of magic and monsters.

"Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he just ran into a demon too strong or cunning. Some even say that it was the same demon that had killed his family, somehow resurrected from the ice binding it. Whatever the case, something happened and he was possessed. He was able to hold on for a while and fight off the dark presence taking over his body and preying on his mind, but although he tried everything, he couldn't find a way to exorcise the entity.

"When he realized that this was a fight he couldn't win, he fled. He ran to the mountains—these very mountains, it is said—and searched for a place to hide. He climbed the mountain and abandoned the marked trails, searching for a place far off the beaten path. And when he found a cave in the middle of nowhere, in a place that no one would ever find, he sealed the entrance with ice and went as deep into the mountainside as he could go. In his last moments of freedom, he cast a powerful spell to seal himself in an eternal, unmeltable ice so that the demon would be trapped along with him and couldn't hurt anyone else.

"And perhaps that is when things truly get interesting, because at this point all the tales begin to diverge. Some say that he's still alive in the ice, trapped in stasis for all eternity. Some say that he is dead, but perhaps not entirely gone. According to some legends, his ghost haunts the mountains. Some say that he's trapped in the cave, waiting for someone to wander past. Either hundreds of years of solitude have driven him to madness, or perhaps the demon merging with his soul had twisted his mind. It's said that he waits to snag unwary passersby so that they'll stay with him for eternity and break him out of his isolation. Or, according to other variations, he wanders the mountainside and frightens travelers so that they fall to their deaths.

"Then there is the other main divergence of the legend, the variations which say nothing of a ghost but maintain that the demon somehow escaped the ice, at least in part. Some say that it wanders the mountains, killing and sometimes eating whoever crosses its path. Some say that it managed to wriggle loose of part of the spell but couldn't escape entirely, and is trapped inside the cave for all time, waiting for an unsuspecting traveler to wander by so that it can possess them and escape its prison with a new body.

"These are haunted mountains, whether they are haunted by ghosts or demons or legends."

_Said the cunning spider to the fly, "Dear friend, what shall I do,_  
_To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?_  
 _I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;_  
 _I'm sure you're very welcome; will you please to take a slice?"_  
 _"O no, no," said the little fly, "kind sir, that cannot be;_  
 _I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see."_

Lucy paused, disoriented as she suddenly found herself at the end of her tale and was sucked back into the real world.

"Oh," said the man, a sly half-smile that Lucy would call a smirk on anyone else tugging at the corners of his lips, "is _that_ what they say?"

That air of perpetual amusement was back again, as if there was a joke that only he understood. Given that sly, almost leisurely amusement that seemed to have pervaded the entire encounter, Lucy got the impression that he was laughing at the world on the inside. It shouldn't be as appealing as it was, but it made Lucy want to know what he found so entertaining so that she could laugh with him.

"Well, it's just a story," said Lucy with a self-deprecating laugh, wondering if she should be embarrassed by how deeply she had gotten lost in a children's tale. "It's part of a much larger set of legends about the bygone magical era, but everyone tells it to their kids where I come from. It's mostly to scare them out of wandering into the mountains and getting lost."

"Ah, yes," he said with that disarmingly charming half-smile, "legends often have messages attached. Sometimes it's good to pay heed to cautionary warnings, isn't it?"

"I…guess so."

People told stories for a reason, after all, and some of those reasons involved important lessons to be learned. And if Lucy had just listened to those lessons and warnings that she'd internalized in her childhood, then she wouldn't currently be lost and in danger of freezing to death high on the mountainside. Then again, she also wouldn't have met _him_ , and it was hard to want to pass up that opportunity.

"You're a very good storyteller," he said, leaning back against an icy column. "You've a knack for words and weaving together plots."

Lucy beamed. "Do you think so? I do love telling stories. I want to be a writer someday, write a novel and get it published." She chuckled. "Actually, this would make for a good story, wouldn't it? I could easily write a story about a silly girl who tries to cross a treacherous mountain range in the dead of winter and stumbles across a cave inhabited by a mysterious stranger."

"And how would that story end, do you think?"

"Well, I wouldn't know that yet, would I? The story hasn't ended yet, but that's always the most fun part. It's more exciting when you aren't entirely sure where it's going, when it's still an adventure and you're just along for the ride."

She paused, wondering if she sounded silly rambling incoherently about stories and adventures, but the mysterious stranger in question just smiled.

"You have a lot of passion," he observed. "You've certainly got a spark."

Lucy relaxed, smiling brightly once more. "Thank you."

"But even if you like the adventure of an ongoing story, surely you must want to know the ending eventually?"

"Of course," she said with a laugh. "Endings are important. They can make or break a story, you know."

"If you ever got the chance to write this story down then it would be a breathtaking tale, I think." His eyes glittered like pitch-black ice, and that knowing smile was back again. "Maybe even a bestseller."

"Oh! Do you think so? I'm not sure I'm _that_ good."

"Perhaps you just haven't found the right story to tell yet," he suggested. "You seem to have all the talent and skill already."

Lucy flushed again, although she suspected that it probably wasn't noticeable with her cheeks already rosy from the cold. She wasn't sure that she could feel her feet anymore, numb and cold as they were inside her boots. The chill was making her bones _ache_ , and she couldn't help but shiver no matter how deeply she huddled into her coat.

"You must be freezing and hungry and tired," said the man, his smooth voice dropping to a cadence that lulled Lucy and put her back at ease. "Why don't you come inside and perhaps find some sustenance and warmth? There's no need to suffer out in the elements because of old legends. You'll have to come in to find out the end of your story, won't you? Come, we can sit and swap tales. I have stories to tell too, if you'd like to hear. It has been a long time since I've shared them with anyone. It would be fun, wouldn't it, Luce?"

"Fun," Lucy agreed with a dreamy smile, drifting a few steps closer to the cavern's entrance.

She did love stories. She wanted to know what tales this enthralling stranger had and to share her own. And _oh_ , she loved how he said her name, giving it a spark of mischief and life that she'd grown to crave. No one had ever said her name like that before.

"It's been such a long time," he said with a sigh. "Keep me company, won't you, Lucy? At least through the night, until it's safe to travel again. I'd like to hear some more of your stories."

_"Sweet creature!" said the spider, "You're witty and you're wise!_  
_How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!_  
 _I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,_  
 _If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."_  
 _"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,_  
 _And bidding you good-morning_ _**now** _ _, I'll call_ _**another** _ _day."_

"Would you?" Lucy asked, her lips curving upward for the briefest of seconds. "My father says that I waste too much time dreaming up stories and living in the clouds and searching for magic. I'm afraid he thinks I'm terribly silly and foolish for it."

"Silly? You?" He arched an eyebrow in an almost mocking fashion and winked. "Surely he doesn't know what he's talking about. Maybe he just doesn't understand. They who look down upon the dreamers are the ones who have not the ability to dream themselves. The world runs on the labor of the waking dead, but it grows only because the dreamers open their eyes and see what it could be rather than what it is. Isn't that right, little dreamer?"

"Right," Lucy breathed, eyes sparkling as she drifted closer, hanging on his every word.

If she had a way with words, then so did he. What a beautiful way to express such a lovely sentiment. It felt like he understood what her father had never bothered trying to comprehend.

"He doesn't understand," she agreed. "He thinks that all there is to life is work and money. He wants me to lock up my dreams, be the perfect daughter and wife to whoever he chooses for me, give up everything that makes me _me_. Be a good girl and marry to increase the fortune, sit back and watch the world pass me by."

"He sounds like a very narrow-minded man."

"Oh! He is, he is!" cried Lucy, clasping her hands together. "He doesn't understand the way that you do. I'm so glad that I'm leaving to make my own way. He never was the same after my mother died, and I've had enough of him being so heartlessly cold and trying to control me."

"Running away, are you?" said her new friend, another smile tugging at his lips. "Ah, now _there's_ an adventure. You don't get anywhere just plodding along in the drudgery of day-to-day life. People like you, Lucy, the ones with that spark of imagination, they can't be satisfied like that. You need to go on your quest and see the world and explore its wonders. Isn't that right?"

"Right!" Lucy beamed. It was like he could see right into her heart and pull out the words she had never dared voice herself.

"They who have forgotten how to dream live in a dreadfully mundane world, don't they?" he asked. "Where's all the color? The life? Ah, Lucy, if anyone lived in a world of magic, it would be you. Your father wouldn't stand a chance, but if anyone was to meet a living legend then it would be you."

She giggled. "Do you think so? Wouldn't _that_ make for a good story?"

"Indeed." The twinkle in his eyes made Lucy long to hear his laugh again, to get a glimpse into his mind and share his amusement. "Even a bestseller, perhaps…if you ever got the chance to write it down."

He had so much faith in her, and she'd only known him a few minutes. And he seemed to understand everything so _perfectly_. Lucy had never met someone who understood her so well before. She wondered if this was what it felt like to meet your soulmate.

_Lucy Heartfilia, you've had exactly one crush in your entire life, not including this guy. What do you know of soulmates and love?_

_But he's perfect… No one has ever made me feel so…special._

_And have you forgotten that you know nothing about him?_

_But I could learn._

_And you don't think it strange that he's been living in a cave in such an inhospitable place in the mountains?_

_No… He belongs here._

_You honestly see nothing strange about this situation?_

_No._

_Lucy Heartfilia, your mother would be rolling over in her grave if she could see you now._

Lucy didn't dignify that thought with a response. She was actually rather disgusted with her pragmatic, level-headed side breaking through. She was a dreamer, just like he said, and she shouldn't let herself get caught up in the boring, concrete concerns of the rest of the world.

"You see what everyone else misses, now that they have forgotten how to look." Pushing himself gracefully away from the icy column he was leaning against, he ghosted forward a step, drawing Lucy in with his magnetic eyes. "Because the truth is that the world still hums with magic, doesn't it? In the high places, the hidden places, the corners of the world that everyone has forgotten, magic still wells. You can feel it, can't you, Lucy? It's like your keys. They aren't like the magic keys of old, but they keep their sheen of faded magic. A magic of love and memories and dreams. It's a beautiful magic, isn't it? If only more people were as clever as you and could see it."

"They say that magic isn't real," Lucy mumbled, even though she felt like she was melting into a puddle of goo as she stared at him with adoring eyes.

"Maybe they don't know where to look." He winked at Lucy and she giggled. "It'll be our little secret, just you and I. Our magic is as beautiful as anything from legend, isn't it? A magic of the woven word and silver tongue. Everyone has a little bit of magic inside them if they only knew how to open their eyes and see it, and you have more than most."

"You understand me so well," Lucy said in admiration. "No one else understands."

"Ah, Lucy," said he, his eyes alight with a world of mischief and magic that only he could see, "you are not so very hard to understand."

_The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,_  
_For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:_  
 _So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,_  
 _And set his table ready to dine upon the fly._  
 _Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing_  
 _"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing:_  
 _Your robes are green and purple; there's a crest upon your head;_  
 _Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead."_

"Then I'm afraid I must think the rest of the world dreadfully silly, because I've yet to find anyone else," said Lucy.

He offered her a smile that made her heart melt. "Perhaps you are too clever for them to keep up. You see more than they do—a gift of sight. That's a magic too. Yes, I can see it in your eyes. You shiver in the wind, your cheeks are red with cold, but your eyes, they shine like stars." He sighed, his smile melting into something more wistful. "I do miss the stars."

Lucy ducked her head, a grin tugging at her lips. She did love stars; they were such pretty things. What a charming compliment.

Glancing up from beneath lowered lashes, she met her friend's gaze. His eyes were so dark that they were almost black, a velvet void like the shadow of a night so deep that it had swallowed the stars. She had always thought the night sky was only as beautiful as the stars adorning it, but there was something enchanting about eyes so dark that they sucked in the light and transformed it into an inner shine that set them glittering like onyx. They were a black hole that drew Lucy in, and she wasn't sure she could resist even if she wanted to.

"I'd think that you'd get a beautiful view of the stars from here," she said, unable to tear her gaze away from those mesmerizing eyes. "Not like in the city where they sometimes get lost."

He seemed to consider that before nodding. Glancing away and breaking the spell, he reached out a pale, almost insubstantial hand to curl around a jagged shard of ice that clung to the edge of the cave's entranceway like broken glass. Breaking it away from the rock with a sharp snap, he turned it over in his hands and studied it thoughtfully. Lucy thought that he was quite lucky not to have sliced his hand open, but he seemed unconcerned. After a moment, he tossed the ice gently. It hit the ground just outside the mouth of the cave and bounced down the side of the mountain into one of the chasms below.

"Yes," he said, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards, "I think I shall get a wondrous view of the stars tonight. You like stars too, don't you, Lucy? Darkness will be falling soon. Come inside and warm yourself. We can share stories until nightfall and then go stargazing."

Lucy smiled. "That sounds nice. I know all about stars. My mother loved them too. She used to point them out to me, trace out the constellations and recite their names. I bet I could find them all up here."

"Oh? I'm afraid you'll think me horribly uncouth. I know nothing of the intricacies; I just think the stars are lovely to look at. You'd have to start from scratch with me, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I'd love to show you!"

"How kind of you," he said with another lazy smile. "I'm fortunate that my guest is someone as well-learned as you. Well, why don't you grace me with one night of your company? We can tell tales of magic and marvel at the stars, and then tomorrow you can be off on your grand adventure again."

That sounded wonderful, like a fairy tale come true. The only thing marring its perfection was the thought that this would be for only one night. It was hard to imagine leaving him behind again. Even just thinking about it made Lucy's heart sink.

Then an idea struck her and her eyes lit up as she cried, "You could come with me! Surely you must want to see the world too? You understand too well not to. Not that your cave doesn't seem lovely, but an adventure is always more fun with two."

His smile faded, and he suddenly looked almost small and lost as he edged back away from the entrance a few steps. "I don't know…"

"But why not? Wouldn't it be fun?"

"I've been here for so long…"

"Why didn't you ever leave?"

He shrugged and looked away. "Where would I have gone? I have no place in your world, Lucy."

Lucy's heart melted at his moment of vulnerability. Underneath all that charm and grace, he was still lonely and sad, wasn't he? Whoever had abandoned him here must have been a heartless monster. It was heartbreaking to think that he had stayed here for so long on his own because he felt like no one wanted him and he had nowhere to go. No wonder he was so eager for Lucy to stay for a little while—the poor thing must be so lonely.

"You have a place with me!" Lucy said fervently. "Just think about it! We're both alone now, but we could go on the journey together. We could cross the mountains and join a guild and make a new place for ourselves in the world…together."

"That sounds so…nice." He looked back at her with a small smile that had just an edge of his usual crafty amusement, and his eyes glittered with gratitude. And perhaps just a hint of satisfaction and sly triumph.

"It would be! Won't you at least think about it?"

"Ah, you're too kind," he said with a chuckle. "Maybe I will. Come in. Tomorrow we can discuss our adventure, you and I."

He held out a hand invitingly and Lucy stepped forward, drawn in by his starless eyes and charming smile. His hand hovered just inside the entranceway, and Lucy reached out to take it.

_Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,  
Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by.  
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew  
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;  
Thinking only of her crested head — __**poor foolish thing!**_ _At last,_  
_Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast._  
 _He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,_  
 _Within his little parlor; but she ne'er came out again!_

His smile widened, and it made Lucy beam back. He grasped her hand tightly and drew her inside the cavern, into the world of enchanted ice in which he lived. Then he slipped off Lucy's glove and took her hand again.

His touch was electric. His skin was cool, but with an almost insubstantial quality that made Lucy feel as if she could push her own hand through it if she tried. But it was also so solid and firm at the same time—one more contradiction to add to the list.

He turned Lucy's hand so that the back was facing up and, bowing slightly from the waist, brushed his lips to her skin. The touch was feather-light, almost like the whisper of a chilly breeze against the back of her hand.

"Welcome to my humble abode, princess," he said, straightening up and giving her a sly grin.

Lucy giggled, her cheeks warming. For someone who hadn't had visitors in a long time, he sure knew his manners, even if they were a little old-fashioned. Who said chivalry was dead? She _did_ feel like a princess in her icy castle with her Prince Charming holding her hand. She could still feel the ghost of his lips on her skin and found her eyes tracing over his face and lingering on his lips, wondering what it would feel like if he kissed her for real.

He noticed her scrutiny and his eyes flashed with amusement, but he just kept a gentle but firm grip on her hand and led her deeper into the cavern.

"Pretty, isn't it?" he asked as she paused to gawk at the crystalline ice decorating the walls and ceiling and floor.

"Very," she breathed, giving him another sidelong look.

He was so at home here. He looked as if he could almost be one of the icy sculptures himself, with how his alabaster skin reflected a faint, translucent glow from the sparkling ice. The ephemerality and almost incorporeal cast to his skin was anchored only by the sweeping strands of raven-dark hair, and by those fathomless black eyes that glittered and danced with amusement as they studied her right back.

Embarrassed to have gotten distracted staring again, Lucy coughed awkwardly and turned her attention to the ice. The slender columns of ice and frozen stalactites dripping from the ceiling were breathtaking, but her favorite might be the delicate whorls of crystal ice and frost feathering out over the rocks. They reminded her a little of crystalline lace or the frosty patterns that appeared etched on window panes after a nighttime freeze.

She let the master of this winter wonderland draw her deeper, realizing that this cavern must wend its way a good distance into the mountainside.

"Wow, I can't imagine getting to wake up to see this every day," she said, looking around in awe. "How beautiful. Although definitely chilly."

He chuckled again and she leaned into the sound unconsciously, wanting more.

"It's ice, Luce. Of course it's chilly."

The farther they walked, the more the temperature cooled, dropping lower and lower until Lucy shivered.

"It seems like it's not as cold in the front," she said hopefully.

He shot her an amused look, clearly picking up on what she wasn't quite asking, but just said, "Didn't you want to see all of it?"

Lucy couldn't dispute that. A little cold would be worth bearing in order to see all the frozen beauty trapped in this place.

She paused again, this time to study a pane of ice stretching up one of the rocky walls.

"Pretty," she mumbled, rocking back and forth on her heels and watching her slightly distorted reflection shimmer and follow suit, a blur of color underneath the icy fractures in the natural mirror. "I wonder how so much ice got in here."

"Good question," her host said, his voice sounding almost like a laugh.

"I wonder if–" Lucy broke off and stopped rocking. She stared.

She could see her reflection, albeit in a slightly blurred and distorted fashion, but behind her…nothing.

An uncomfortable feeling tightened in her chest, and she slowly turned her head. The man took in her expression, darted a glance at the ice, and then his smile widened into a grin.

_Lucy Heartfilia, you have made a mistake._

"I should–I should go," she stammered, stepping back and trying to tug her hand out of his grasp.

His grip tightened, somehow only frostbitten air yet as unyielding as iron.

"Oh?" he asked, those eyes like black holes threatening to suck her in. A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and Lucy suddenly got the feeling that it was _her_ he'd been laughing at all along. "But you only just got here. You still haven't seen how your story ends."

Lucy swallowed hard, her heart hammering painfully in her chest, and tried to yank her hand back again. It seemed like his skin—if she could call it skin, when it felt only like some unholy hybrid of ice and air—was growing colder by the second, searing hers with its painful chill. She could barely feel her hand anymore, aside from that aching, piercing cold scraping along her bones.

And then she realized that she could barely feel her feet either. Looking down, her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the frost swirling about in lazy patterns, crawling up her boots and hardening into biting fangs. She jumped back automatically, shaking her feet, but the chilly miasma seemed to hang in the air and solidify across her body. Ice shouldn't form that fast. It shouldn't–

Her frightened eyes met his smug ones, and she suddenly had the suspicion that the ice was somehow coming from him.

"You–you–!"

"Oh, I have so many tales of magic to tell," he purred. "Or legend, was it? Wouldn't you like to meet a legend, Luce? You're such a _dreamer_. You wouldn't pass up such a wonderful opportunity, would you? If anyone got the chance to meet a living legend, surely it would be you."

A strangled moan worked its way out of Lucy's throat. She tried pulling away again, but it was no use. She opened her mouth, but then her gaze caught on something behind her captor and she froze.

The back wall loomed behind him and a huge block of ice stretched from floor to ceiling, a shimmering and impenetrable wall. And inside, suspended like an insect in amber, was a boy. A man. His head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth twisted into a pained grimace. Raven-dark hair swept across his forehead, and his outstretched arms and bare chest were crafted of the palest skin.

Lucy stared, mouth open, wondering how he could possibly be in the ice when he was standing right in front of her.

The man's chuckle echoed faintly throughout the cavern as he slipped around behind Lucy, one hand remaining locked in hers while the other grasped her arm with a touch so painfully cold that she gasped.

"So, darling," he breathed into her ear, his voice little more than the whisper of a winter breeze, "what do you think? Ghost or demon?"

Her scream echoed off the ice and flew back down the winding passageway, only to be swallowed by the heavy blanket of snow outside, leaving only a cave in the middle of nowhere, in a place that no one would ever find.

_And now, dear little children, who may this story read,_  
_To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed;_  
 _Unto an evil counselor close heart, and ear, and eye,_  
 _And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly._

**Author's Note:**

> And you never knew that you wanted to see "The Spider and the Fly" FT style. What, you still don't? Sorry XD Well, pay attention to the lesson here, kiddos: if you see a strange man in the mountains, don't go into his cave no matter how charming he is. Or something like that.
> 
> Naive!Lucy didn't stand a chance against charming-sociopath-ghost/demon!Gray, poor thing XD


End file.
